Onset by Kim Addonizio. plus footnote.

Watching that frenzy of insects above the bush of white flowers,
bush I see everywhere on hill after hill, all I can think of
is how terrifying spring is, in its tireless, mindless replications.
Everywhere emergence: seed case, chrysalis, uterus, endless manufacturing.
And the wrapped stacks of Styrofoam cups in the grocery, lately
I can’t stand them, the shelves of canned beans and soups, freezers
of identical dinners; then the snowflake-diamond-snowflake of the rug
beneath my chair, rows of books turning their backs,
even my two feet, how they mirror each other oppresses me,
the way they fit so perfectly together, how I can nestle one big toe into the other
like little continents that have drifted; my God the unity of everything,
my hands and eyes, yours; doesn’t that frighten you sometimes, remembering
the pleasure of nakedness in fresh sheets, all the lovers there before you,
beside you, crowding you out? And the scouring griefs,
don’t look at them all or they’ll kill you, you can barely encompass your own;
I’m saying I know all about you, whoever you are, it’s spring
and it’s starting again, the longing that begins, and begins, and begins.

Footnote:
in general i dont write much if anything about a poem when i post it, if it grabs me by the gut then i throw it up here as much to keep track of for myself as for anyone else. but someone who saw this asked me what i liked about the piece - because she wasnt as jazzed as i was. and as much as i loathe to break down or explain a piece, particulaly one that i didnt write, i didnt mind working through this one so here's what i wrote just because maybe the poems appeal wasnt as universal as i thought:

"well i love the way it calls out the flipside of springs "renewal" that everyone gushes about... seen from another (her) perspective, it's an almost frenzied over-sexed repetitive replication... the way she writes i got this image of spring on fast forward, buds popping out, blossoming, everything growing dying growing, birthing, bunnies humping... so repetitive its almost like manufacturing... and that brings her to the frozen dinners and the repetition all around us, patterns, molds. the way we repeat our patterns, our loves, our pains of losing love, the way we, as humans, are a pattern, repeated, fitting together in a pre-ordained way, interlocking, both with lovers and with ourselves, we see the inverse shape of ourself in another, like continents "drifted apart."
i adored how it zoomed in to detail and out to the bigger picture, tying it all together through pattern.
i guess im also just tired of how my emotions are begining to feel repetative, both good and bad emotions, im not surprised by them anymore. and i think i identify that sentiment in her poem."

and then she asked me how long its been since i was surprised by an emotion.
and that was a hard question. for me to answer and, i imagine, for her to hear.

"honestly, for a little while now i've felt a little bit like an over-planted field... like if my emotions are they soil theyve got very few nutrients left. i dont think it makes me a worse friend or less caring, maybe it does, and that would suck if its true, but its more in terms of really being surprised by some strong emotion that wells up in me... i just dont feel capable of it. It's really REALLY out of character for me. I tend to live very much in my emotions... i always have. but these days i get depressed and i know it will pass. I get happy and I know it will pass. I feel like i used up so much of myself emotionally last year i need to go out into the wilderness and feel nothing for a while. but barring that i can only hope that it passes or that something jump starts me."